


I Knew That Look, Dear

by postapocalyptic_cryptic



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Depression, Dissociation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Existential Crisis, Gen, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Obi-Wan Kenobi Gets a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Post-Star Wars: The Phantom Menace, Quinlan is very concerned and very soft, Sharing a Bed, are they friends? are they dating? who knows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:20:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28258329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/postapocalyptic_cryptic/pseuds/postapocalyptic_cryptic
Summary: Obi-Wan isn't doing well in the aftermath of The Phantom Menace. He's no longer sure of his place in the world.Quinlan is sure of Obi-Wan's place in his bed.Title from "Like Real People Do" by Hozier
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Quinlan Vos, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Quinlan Vos
Comments: 5
Kudos: 129





	I Knew That Look, Dear

**Author's Note:**

> Possible TW: Obi-Wan has thoughts that could be read as suicidal, but are more along the lines of intrusive.  
> Dissociation, slight unreality.

Obi-Wan is hollowed out. There is nothing left of him to take. There is nothing left of him to rot. He is simply a tower of promises, checks made out that all bounced upon cashing. A strong breeze could knock him over. 

He can’t get back up from this one. 

He’s never noticed how high this tower is before, how he can feel the tingle of the drop in his whole body when he closes his eyes to meditate. He lets the fear of the fall fill him, but it too runs away and leaves him empty. 

Who is Obi-Wan Kenobi?

Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Jedi Knight. 

_Ha._ A Knight who never took the Trials? Obi-Wan is a Padawan at _best._ A padawan without a Master, which leaves him back at square one. 

_(Red walls closing in front of him red lightsaber arcing through the air red when his vision clouds over with rage he’s gone he’s gone he’s gone)_

Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Jedi. He follows the will of the Force. What does that even mean? Obi-Wan was raised in the Temple. He has never known anything else. When he was younger, he would look out the window at the children passing by and wonder what they had that he didn’t, or vice versa. 

Obi-Wan Kenobi is a son without parents. They must be somewhere in the galaxy, alive or dead. Maybe he had siblings. He never knew them. 

Obi-Wan is a friend. Of who? When was the last time Obi-Wan actually talked to any of his friends? Do they still think of him? 

Obi-Wan is- Oh, _Force,_ Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Master. He is in charge of a nine year old child who has no one else in the entire kriffing _universe_ because Qui-Gon _died_ and left him with a _kid_ and wasn’t that just the final fuck you on the whole fucking cake. Little gods. 

The room around him lifts away, spinning as it goes. The walls remain, but very little of its metaphysical significance sticks around. Obi-Wan imagines falling from the top of the Tower, down and down and down. What would it feel like? Would the impact hurt? Obi-Wan fell three stories, once. Qui-Gon had carried him to a hospital. Now, he can’t even remember the system they were in. 

Obi-Wan slumps backwards, sprawling out on his back and staring up to the ceiling. Thousands of years of carvings up there. Thousands of years of Jedi, and what to show for it? Someday, Obi-Wan would be another forgotten name, another obscure line in the Archives. So many people lived and died and life is so short. 

His head is filled with batting, and it’s bleeding out onto the floor like he’s a ripped pillow. Coming out his ears, maybe. He’s too light to have any bones left. He imagines sinking through the floor. 

What was the point of Qui-Gon dying? How come Obi-Wan couldn’t have been just a bit faster? Why hadn’t Qui-Gon waited? Everyone keeps calling him brave and saying that this event was somehow cosmically massive, but it was just a thing that happened. It happened to Obi-Wan. It could have happened to anyone. Who is Obi-Wan Kenobi? How does he know what’s real? 

Obi-Wan feels something slip in his head. He lets it go, watches it fall into the depths of the Force.

“Obi-Wan?” 

Obi-Wan can’t bring himself to pick his head up. He doesn’t want Quinlan to be here. 

“Obes? Are you alright?” A series of soft steps make their way across the room. Quinlan kneels by Obi-Wan’s side. “Oh, baby.” Calloused fingers wipe tears from Obi-Wan’s cheeks and Obi-Wan realizes he’s been crying. He feels them now, wet and hot and running down into his hair. 

Quinlan touches Obi-Wan’s shoulder. Obi-Wan becomes aware of the way his robes are bunched uncomfortably underneath him. A warm hand takes his and tugs. “Come on, sit up,” Quinlan murmurs. “Let’s get you in bed. I know you haven’t had much sleep since… well.”

“Tactful,” Obi-Wan says through the static. 

“I try.” Quinlan hauls him to his feet and guides him when he can’t seem to find the door he walked in through. Quinlan’s arm settles around his shoulder and something in Obi-Wan makes its way back under cover of the pressure. It can’t get away now. Quinlan’s got it. 

* * *

Obi-Wan wakes up with the beginnings of a headache. More importantly, he wakes up with Quinlan on top of him, face smushed against his shoulder, snoring. He’s in Quinlan’s quarters, as evidenced by the bright posters on the ceiling above him. It takes a moment to remember why and another moment to breathe through the resurgence of grief. 

Obi-Wan reaches into the Force to ground himself, releasing all manner of painfully sharp emotions into that all-consuming void. Then, he reaches into his senses. Quinlan lays heavy atop him and Obi-Wan melts into the pressure. It’s warm in this little bed and the sheets are soft against Obi-Wan’s bare feet. The little sunlight that makes it through the curtains is watery with early-morning blue. Quinlan smells of his favorite shampoo and his hair tickles Obi-Wan’s neck. 

On top of him, Quinlan shifts. “Mm?” Obi-Wan freezes, but it’s too late. Quinlan turns himself around until he’s looking up at him. “‘Morning.” He smiles gently, all his normal enthusiasm and restlessness dampened by sleep. 

“Good morning,” Obi-Wan responds, not bothering with an attempted smile. Quinlan knows. Quinlan always knows. 

Quinlan shifts again, this time rolling the both of them until he’s spooning Obi-Wan, an arm and a leg slung over him protectively. “Stay for a little while?”

In response, Obi-Wan turns in his arms, slipping his hands under the edge of Quinlan’s sleep shirt and burying his face in the crook of his neck. Quinlan just sighs and starts rubbing his back. 

Some time passes like that, not long, but long enough for Obi-Wan to begin wandering the shadowed place between waking and sleep, fighting off flashes of red and the lingering feeling of failure that was enough to drag him under. 

_You should have done something more. You won’t be able to do what he asked of you. What are you doing here? You should-_

“Obes?” Quinlan says into his hair. “You’re not alone. You’re never alone. I know I can’t fix it, but I can tell you that much.” 

Maybe that’s the point. 

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted some soft Quinobi, that's all.  
> Feel free to drop a comment or hit me up on tumblr @postapocalyptic-cryptic-fic or @chiafett and have a lovely day! May the Force be with you!


End file.
